


How to be a friend

by mrsfizzle



Category: Smallville
Genre: Angst, Dark, Gen, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:55:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24523453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrsfizzle/pseuds/mrsfizzle
Summary: The day Clark ends their friendship, Lex reflects on all the things he learned from the man he once considered a brother. It's not what he was hoping for. One-shot. Dark.
Relationships: Clark Kent & Lex Luthor
Comments: 21
Kudos: 12





	How to be a friend

**Author's Note:**

> Set shortly after 5x2, Mortal. The end of this episode always confused me, for reasons that might be clear from the story. This story is a bit stream-of-consciousness.
> 
> Important for regular readers of my work: this is NOT part of the If She Looked Over universe. It also does NOT follow the tone of my other stories—there's no comfort element. I intend to portray a dark moment in Lex's canonical fall from grace.

I've never had a real friend before Clark.

He was there for me when my father shut down the plant and blamed it on me, and he visited me at Belle Reve when I was committed, even though I wasn't in my right mind. When I recovered, he came to check on me, and he embraced me like a brother. In his arms, for just a moment, I couldn't feel any of the pain I'd carried with me for the last ten years of my life.

Having someone to back you up even when no one else does is the best feeling in the world. Clark taught me that.

I told him once how much he meant to me. I told him I hadn't missed Julian nearly as badly since we'd been friends, and that Clark was the closest thing to a brother I'd had since. Clark didn't say anything, just stared at me. That was the first time it struck me that maybe he didn't feel the same way about me as I did about him. But I kept trying to be the best friend I could, to earn his approval.

I don't think I'll ever earn it now.

Earlier today, some Belle Reve inmates escaped and held Clark's family hostage for a meteor rock serum. Clark knew I had it in my labs, so he broke in to steal it.

Tonight, he stormed into my study and started punching me in the face. He said I set up his family, that I helped those inmates escape and sent them after him. He said I had promised them the serum if they went after his family, forcing Clark to break into my labs to steal what they wanted, so that I could see if Clark manifested some sort of supernatural abilities during his break-in.

I did watch the security footage, and I admit I was surprised to see that Clark seemed pretty normal, but I don't know why he thinks I did the rest. I couldn't have engineered a situation this complex—too many moving pieces, too much uncertainty, and too much danger to people I'd be willing to die to protect. If I wanted to coerce Clark into breaking into my labs just so I could learn his secrets, I could think of a million more surefire ways I could do that without hurting his family.

But I didn't know how to say any of that, not while Clark was beating me. The fact is, even if I didn't actually put his family in danger, I took advantage of their bad situation by analyzing the video footage of him breaking in. That's how he'd see it, anyway. His moral code is stronger than mine. It always has been.

I've tried to learn as much as possible about being a friend from Clark. He risks his life for other people so often, I worry for him. But to be a good friend, you have to be willing to risk everything for the people you care about. Clark taught me that.

I try to keep up and follow his lead. I've fought with my father, I've stood down gunmen, I've scared away threats to the community, and a few weeks ago I injected myself with an untested vaccine to avoid risking any of my employees' lives. Clark looked so proud of me that day. I've survived everything so far, but I'm afraid that one of these days, my luck is going to run out.

Sometimes I wonder if that would be such a bad thing. I told Clark that once, a few months ago. I'd encountered a woman I once slept with and then brushed off, and she tried to kill me. I felt humiliated for not realizing how badly I'd treated the woman, and I told Clark that maybe the world would be better off without me. Maybe I was hoping that he would correct me, but he didn't. He told me he felt like my father was more honest with him than I was. He told me the only person I cared about was myself.

I came so close to dying that day—I was soaked in alcohol, surrounded by flames, and screaming, dignity forgotten—but then the flames went out. I'm losing count of how many times I've miraculously survived something that should have killed me. I think Clark knows why these things keep happening, but he gets angry when I ask him questions. He once yelled at me for asking him what really happened the day my car went off the bridge. When I try to look into any of the mysteries of Smallville, whether they seem to be related to him or not, he tells me I'm like my father. I wonder if Clark knows that he couldn't possibly find more hurtful words to say to me.

A year ago, Clark broke off our friendship because he found my Room of Obsession. I know that my obsession with the unexplained is my true vice, but this was more than that. This was an unholy union between my burning desperation to make sense of everything that in my life that doesn't add up, and my unyielding frustration with the number of lies Clark tells me. Part of surviving as a Luthor is knowing when someone is lying.

Friends sometimes keep secrets from each other. They sometimes lie. Clark taught me that.

I don't know a lot about right and wrong—my father's teaching was always lacking in that area—but I know investigating Clark was wrong. I betrayed his trust and went behind his back in a way that he would find especially hurtful. Clark eventually forgave me for the Room of Obsession, but I had to grovel for weeks.

I begged Clark not to give up on me. I've hinted at it many times, but a few weeks ago, I said the words outright. He didn't say anything, and now I'm wondering if he had already given up then and was just waiting for me to slip. I only begged because I didn't seem to have any other hope of fighting off the darkness inside of me.

That darkness is getting stronger. I can feel it rising. There are moments, hours, even days when I lose control entirely, and I do things I don't want to do. Clark's friendship has always kept it at bay, but I can't help thinking that if I were a good man, I could fight it off on my own.

I'm not a good man. Clark taught me that.

I took an aspirin a few minutes after Clark left, almost an hour ago. The pounding in my head is quieter, my nose isn't bleeding anymore, and the deep bruises on my knees and elbows from when Clark shoved me to the floor aren't throbbing like they were. But the weight on my chest has only grown, and it's excruciating. I haven't felt this much pain since my mother died and Pamela left. I think it's even worse than when Helen tried to kill me.

God help me, I'm really not sure where to go from here. I don't have any other friends or family to turn to, which means I guess I don't have anything to lose.

I'm still on good terms with Lana, though. I like her. She's honest, and gentle, and stronger than she thinks she is. Maybe I can get her to fall for me. I think she's dating Clark right now—who can keep track, really—but I've lost count of the number of times she's cried in my study over things Clark said to her. She deserves better. I don't know if I can give her better, but I can try.

Clark will hate me if I try to date Lana. I guess I don't have to care about that if he's not my friend anyway, but he might try to come in and beat me again.

Of course, I could have my security send him away. When Clark and I first became friends, I told security that he had unconditional clearance to enter. I didn't revoke that permission when he was angry with me over the Room of Obsession. I should probably tell them to revoke it now, but I can't, not yet. There's this little piece of me that still hopes. I still feel a little thrill of joy every time Clark walks into my study. It's that shred of hope within me, remembering the hours we used to spend playing pool and shooting hoops and just talking.

Lately, he's only in here to yell accusations. Maybe the next time Clark comes in to accuse me, he'll be right, and I'll have actually done something wrong. Or maybe not. He thinks of accusations a lot faster than I can even think of wrong things to do.

Clark forgave me for the Room of Obsession because I groveled, but I don't think I'm going to grovel this time. It was hard enough then, when I had actually done something wrong. This time, I would have to convince him of my innocence, and that's a lost cause. I think his friendship might be a lost cause, too.

But that's okay. It's okay to give up on a friend.

Clark taught me that.

_End_


End file.
